Never Trust a Boy on a Bike

The other day I was being totally chic on Acland St with a friend of mine, lamenting the lack of gorgeous men in our lives, when all of a sudden, just to prove us wrong, a Gorgeous Man rides past us on his bike.

The utter honey-ness of this guy was such that whatever conversation we were having at that point was completely abandoned mid sentence as we stared at him with our jaws dropping, going so far as to turn our heads in sync to follow his path as he rode around the corner. We must have looked pretty damn stupid, but evidently noticeable, because before he disappeared he flashed a beautiful and brilliant smile before vanishing from our lives forever.

That’s right. Vanishing From Our Lives Forever.

We didn’t understand. We had smiled. He was all responsive and smiley back. So the next step for him was to obviously park his bike, buy us drinks, tell us about his work as a fireman, and then introduce us to his identical twin brother we knew he must have stashed somewhere.

WHY HADN’T HE DONE THIS? Was he stupid? We were so obvious we may as well have had a flashing neon sign that played a jaunty tune and declared in twinkling lights like a Christmas Tree, ‘Yes! We WILL sleep with you!’ while we danced naked on either side of it.